


Is It Really A Curse If It Gets You What You Want?

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Curses That Aren't Really, Deviates From Canon, Fairy Tale Curses, First Kiss, Good Morgana (Merlin), M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Scruffy Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24014665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: A sorceress curses Arthur to walk through life with messy, scruffy hair. Only shears wielded by his soulmate can break the enchantment and neaten up his fringe. Whoever might that soulmate be?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 932
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	Is It Really A Curse If It Gets You What You Want?

**Author's Note:**

> This fest is helping me through a rough old time. Thank you so much to [schweet_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/) for hosting it. 
> 
> Obviously these aren't my characters and this isn't my franchise, or else the show would have gone much differently.

Once upon a time, when dragons flew, magic was real, troublesome kings were as common as leaves in a forest, there lived a prince called Arthur.

He came from the land of Camelot, where his father, Uther, sat on the throne and made life miserable for his people. Many spoke, albeit in hushed whispers, of the king’s brutal treatment of anyone he considered a threat or generally didn’t like. Long was the list of those who’d suffered at Uther’s hand.

People frequently tried to stop the king or seek revenge for his misdeeds, sometimes by targeting his son. By his mid-teens, poor Prince Arthur had survived a dozen assassination plots, ten kidnapping attempts, and seven magical assaults. 

Though he survived, these attacks left lasting effects, some more serious than others. The constant threat of violence kept adolescent Arthur focused on military training and unable to falling asleep without a sword close at hand. A magical mishap left him rather scruffy in appearance no matter how much effort he put into personal grooming.

That particular complication began when Arthur turned sixteen. By Uther’s estimate he was old enough to choose a bride, or, more precisely, have one chosen for him.

Despite Arthur’s protestations that he was too young and not ready to enter a legally binding lifelong commitment, Uther went forward with his plan to find his son a wife.

“Princess Agatha is a fine young woman,” Uther told him “She’s very beautiful.”

“Marriage should be based on more than attraction,” Arthur countered, deciding it best not to share that his most private dreams involved more sharp angles and fewer soft curves.

“Precisely!” Uther said. “She’s also very strategic.”

“Strategic?”

“Oh yes. She’s an only child with one living relative. After her father dies, you’ll inherit his kingdom as well.”

Arthur had recently come to terms with the fact he’d one day be responsible for all of Camelot. The thought of having a second kingdom to administer left him at a loss for words.

“I know,” Uther said, misreading his son’s silence. “It’s hard to believe that such good fortune came our way.”

No amount of pleading on Arthur’s part would dissuade his father, who grew increasingly preoccupied with the mines, fields, and sea access that Agatha would bring.

They kept the engagement quiet, Uther because he feared interference and Arthur because he hoped that if he ignored the problem, it might go away on its own.

Agatha arrived in Camelot a month later. What Uther had promised would be weeks of getting to know one another quickly became a half-day of introductions, with a wedding hastily scheduled that same night. It was a largely private affair, as Uther feared his son might cause a scene.

The rushed ceremony was about to begin when Agatha’s elderly maidservant stood.

“Years ago, Camelot was my home and I was happy here,” the old woman said. “But then Uther Pendragon came to power and I had to flee. I found a new life, caring for Agatha these past fifteen years. I love her like she was my own child. I know her heart. It doesn’t belong to that boy and his doesn’t belong to her.”

“Seize her,” Uther said to the lone guard in attendance.

With a flick of the woman’s wrist, the man froze in place.

“You see,” she continued, “my family were all sorcerers, murdered in the Great Purge. You may have taken them from me, but you won’t take Agatha. Uther, I both bless and curse your son. I will save him from your scheming by making it so that he can only consent to wed his soulmate, but, just to annoy you, he will walk through life shaggy and scruffy until he finds that person. They will be the only one who can trim his hair.”

Arthur found his hair had already begun to grow, obscuring his vision as the old woman vanished in a cloud of magic.

“Agatha dear,” her father prompted, “why don’t you help the prince?”

The love he held for his daughter wasn’t enough to reshape his views on women’s leadership potential or his desire to maintain an alliance with Uther.

Someone found a pair of shears and Agatha approached Arthur. Her hands trembled as she began to trim his fringe. Uther beamed as the hair fell to the floor. 

“Look at that!” he exclaimed. “They’re soulmates. Destined to…”

As quickly as it had been cut off, the hair grew back, slightly longer than before.

Since there had been no time for Agatha and her father to unpack, it didn’t take them long to gather their things and head home.

That night, as Uther raged about the evils of sorcery, Arthur found himself developing a secret appreciation for magic.

*****

And so time marched on.

Uther regularly complained about Arthur’s hair.

“No king should look so slovenly. You’ll never be fit to rule.”

Arthur tried to ignore his father’s harsh words and did his best to tame the unruly mess. Having someone else cut it only made things worse – it grew back longer and at strange angles. The best way to get it under control was for Arthur to trim it himself. He could never get it as short as it had been before the curse, but he could at least see where he was going and didn’t need to tie it back.

Besides, cutting it himself meant he would never have to find out his soulmate’s identity. That knowledge would only bring heartache, as things could never work out between them. Despite the obvious evidence of the curse on Arthur’s head, Uther continued to insist that his son would one day marry for strategy, not love.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he’d chided. “Soulmates are made up nonsense for silly girls to dream about, nothing more than superstition. If anyone could cut your hair, they would likely just be a sorcerer trying to deceive you.”

Uther’s rants about soulmates and sorcery did little to convince Arthur, whose own views on magic had evolved considerably after several late-night conversations with Morgana.

“I think I have magic,” Morgana confessed one night, barging into his chambers without knocking. She was wearing her nightdress and Arthur could see her lip quivering as she waited for his response.

“Alright,” Arthur said as he tried to shake away the fog of sleep. “Do you think you can do something about this damned curse?”

Morgana spent months stealthily researching how she might lift the enchantment. Her efforts yielded little success in that regard.

“I’m really sorry, Arthur. I can’t fix it. Take these. They may help,” she said, shoving a box of hairbrushes in his hands.

Her time snooping through old documents in the castle library did, however, reveal that Uther had been keeping secrets of his own.

“For what it’s worth,” Arthur said as he read the love letters exchanged between Morgana’s mother and their father, “You’ve always been family to me. I know there were some courtiers who wanted us to… you know… but I never thought of you like that.”

“Well thank the Goddess for that! And not just because you’re my brother. I… um… I don’t really like boys. I kind of like girls. A lot actually.”

Arthur considered this.

“Funny you should mention that,” he said. “I feel the same way about boys.”

Their shared secrets bringing them closer than ever, Arthur and Morgana spent the next two years supporting one another as they navigated the complicated process of easing into adulthood.

*****

It was in Arthur’s twentieth year that Merlin wandered into his life, causing him to fall in love for the first and only time ever.

True, he’d been attracted to others before, even developed crushes. But what he felt for Merlin far eclipsed all of that. 

Yes, Merlin was easy on the eyes, with his sharp cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and kissable lips. (Arthur’s dreams provided him with ample theoretical data on their kissability, which he relied on as no opportunities for practical experiments had yet presented themselves.)

Arthur conceded that Merlin was a little too skinny – this didn’t take away from his stunning features, but it was a cause for concern. Fortunately, Arthur’s position gave him access to plenty of rich food which he insisted on sharing with Merlin.

“If you don’t eat, people will think I’m a cruel tyrant who abuses his servants.”

“It isn’t as though they’d be wrong.”

Despite the accusation, there was laughter in Merlin’s eyes and it took all of Arthur’s willpower not to kiss him right then and there.

“Shut up and eat your eggs.”

Then there was Merlin’s attitude. As Arthur had learned during their first encounter, Merlin was insolent and stubborn, refusing to bow to rank or station. Uther would’ve been livid at how Merlin talked to the prince, but Arthur lived for it. There was always warmth and affection under the playful barbs. 

Though Merlin had developed a reputation as a bumbling and inept servant, Arthur saw through it. There were the occasional bursts of sage advice, where Merlin seemed far older than his eighteen years. It was true that he sometimes tripped over his own feet, but the clumsiness and forgetfulness came from distraction, not incompetence. 

And as Arthur eventually discovered, Merlin had some particularly good reasons to be distracted.

Jealously and boredom had caused him to trail after Merlin one night. The fact that he’d never been invited on one of Merlin’s tavern excursions stung and Arthur had every intention of crashing Merlin’s party. Instead, he spent the evening creeping through the forest, watching in awe as his servant defeated a band of skeleton warriors, repeatedly blasting them with bolts of magic.

The next morning, Arthur watched a bleary-eyed Merlin blunder through his serving tasks. He was tempted to say something, to let Merlin know that he knew and that his secret was safe. Then a guard knocked on the door with a summons from Uther and Arthur decided against it. It was far too dangerous to speak of. 

Besides, Merlin would tell him when he was ready.

*****

The years came and went. Arthur’s affection, much like his hair, continued to grow. 

Despite mounting pressure from Uther to marry, Arthur refused. Merlin’s presence in his life gave him the emotional support to resist his father. Plus, so long as he remained single, Arthur could entertain the foolish fantasy that Merlin might love him back.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Arthur had asked one evening after too much wine had loosened his tongue.

“Of course,” Merlin replied as he sorted the royal socks. “Everyone has one.”

“So everyone gets a happily ever after?” 

“I wish. I think that’s true for some people, but not always. People might die before finding their soulmate, or distance might keep them apart. Obligations can get in the way and sometimes, I think it’s possible to find your soulmate but realize that there’s no way they could ever feel as deeply for you as you do for them.”

Briefly Arthur wondered if Merlin could read his mind. No, that couldn’t be true. Otherwise, he wouldn’t sound so dejected.

“Don’t worry,” Arthur tried to reassure him. “You’re a catch. And if your soulmate doesn’t want you, then they’re a bigger idiot than I am.”

Arthur continued to keep Merlin’s secret, not once broaching the subject of his magic, though he did seek Merlin’s help getting Morgana out of Camelot when her own powers became too difficult to hide.

“Surely _you_ know of place where a sorcerer could be safe,” Arthur had begged.

Merlin’s body stiffened.

“You must have overheard Gaius say something,” Arthur continued, mentally kicking himself for almost revealing what he knew.

As it turned out, his hunch was right. Merlin never revealed where he’d taken Morgana, but ravens periodically tapped on Arthur’s window to deliver messages from her.

“You really should let Merlin cut your hair,” Morgana wrote in the letter that arrived a month after Uther’s death. “It makes him sad that you won’t.”

Apparently she and Merlin had been staying in touch. That was good, Arthur supposed. Sorcerers likely needed their own community to discuss spells and potions and so forth. Still, he wished that they weren’t talking about him behind his back.

His hair had been a source of tension with Merlin going back to their first months together. Arthur refused to let Merlin anywhere near it with a pair of shears, leading to numerous arguments over the years.

“It’s part of my job!” Merlin shouted at him during one particularly heated exchange. It had been not long after Arthur had retrieved the Fisher King’s trident.

“You didn’t care about your job when it was time to empty the chamber pot yesterday.”

“No one sees if I do that.”

“ _I_ do!”

“You shouldn’t be cutting your own hair.”

“I’m the crown prince, Merlin. I can do as I please.”

“But you always look so sad when you do it. You should let me instead.”

That revelation made Arthur forget the retort he’d been planning.

“There are reasons why I have to be the one to do it.”

“You’ve said that since I started but you’ve never told me what those reasons are. Is it because you don’t trust me?”

“No. Not that. Never that. I swear to you.”

“Then why?”

“Because… you already help me with bathing and dressing. I don’t want to feel completely useless. Now hand me my tunic and let’s get down to the training pitch.”

Whether Merlin believed him or not, Arthur couldn’t say. He hated to lie, but so long as Merlin never had a go at his hair, Arthur could continue to indulge his deepest fantasy that they might be destined for one another.

*****

“I’m rescinding the magic ban.” 

The words slipped out after dinner one night. Morgana’s last letter left him missing his sister and ready to right Uther’s wrongs. Arthur might not be able to have what he wanted most, but that didn’t mean that others couldn’t have a better life.

Merlin, on his way to the door, dropped the tray his was carrying, metal plates and cutlery clattering on the stone floor.

“I’ll be announcing my decision first thing in the morning at the council meeting, then making a public address,” Arthur continued as he watched Merlin scramble to collect the dirty dishes. “You’ll no longer have to hide how you’ve been heating my bathwater.”

Merlin froze.

“How long have you known?”

His voice remained steady, though Arthur could see his hand trembling as he clutched a goblet.

“Since the skeletons in the forest.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t my secret to share.”

“Thank you.” 

Arthur could tell from the choked whisper that Merlin was about to lose his composure.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day and I’m going to need you well-rested.”

“To keep your plate full at the celebratory feast?” 

Merlin’s attempt at banter was a welcome sign that Arthur hadn’t bungled the whole thing.

“No, dollophead. To advise me. I’m going to need a court sorcerer.”

The pink creeping across Merlin’s cheeks left Arthur very much wanting to kiss the man. Still, it might be better not to spring too many surprises on him at once.

“That’s my word. And I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now go. You need rest and so do I.”

Needing and getting were two very different matters. Unable to sleep, Arthur spent the night reflecting on the change he was about to make.

There would be resistance from some of his father’s old advisors, especially the ones who’d complained when he gave Guinevere a seat on the council. He’d have to find a way to regulate what spells were permissible – it wouldn’t do to have neighbors hexing one another into toads. Should he form a legion of battle mages to serve alongside the knights? Would Morgana want to come back? It would be nice to have her home again. 

Then there was the matter of Merlin. Could his magic break the curse that had followed Arthur for half his life? Arthur had revealed Merlin’s secret without confessing his own. Should he tell Merlin how he felt or live with the secret forever? There was no way he was lucky enough for Merlin to be his soulmate. Could Merlin possibly return his feelings? 

He awoke to bright sunlight streaming in, evidence that he’d slept far too long. Why the room was silent, Arthur didn’t want to consider. After a night alone to think things over, did Merlin now hate him?

But there was no time to dwell on it – he was going to be late for the council meeting. 

Arthur hurried into his clothes. It was only after he’d successfully fought all the buttons, ties, and clasps of his most formal attire that he realized he’d forgotten to cut his hair. 

The king would have to be scruffy. There was no time to climb out of his full regalia and he had no intention of arriving with covered in clippings.

Right outside the council chamber, he collided with Merlin.

“Here,” Merlin panted, shoving a scone at him. “You need to eat.”

After inhaling the pastry, Arthur squared his shoulders and marched into the chamber, Merlin trailing close behind.

“I want to build a kingdom that is fair and just,” Arthur began as all eyes turned toward him. Over the next few minutes, he laid out his reasons for changing the law, his ideas for making amends to those who’d suffered during his father’s reign, and his plan to regulate the darker forms of magic. 

He had anticipated a variety of reactions - cheers, heckling, calls to depose him - but not complete silence.

“Well?” Arthur finally asked when his advisors refused to say anything. “Someone must have something to say. Gaius, what do you think?”

He knew the physician had opposed Uther’s policies and lost friends in the Great Purge. Surely Gaius would lend him the support he needed to win over the rest of the council.

“I think… your hair, sire. It looks nice.”

“It really does,” Leon agreed. “Which isn’t to say that it wasn’t nice before.”

“Right,” Gwen continued, “but it looks like you put a lot of effort into it today.” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Geoffrey added. “It’s way you styled it. I can’t remember it being that neat since before the incident with Agatha.”

“What happened with Agatha?” Merlin asked.

“It was a couple of years before you arrived,” Gaius began. “She was a princess who…”

As Gaius explained how the king’s hair had been cursed, Arthur wondered if he’d somehow gone mad. Maybe his proclamation had went over poorly and his mind was shielding him from the barrage of criticism being hurled at him. Less than five minutes before he’d announced the biggest change in Camelot law for decades and all anyone could talk about was his hair, which had to be a mess as it hadn’t been cut since the previous morning.

Though why it wasn’t in his eyes did present a mystery. Out of reflex, he lifted a hand to his head.

“It’s not scruffy,” Arthur said, mostly to himself.

“I hope that’s alright,” Merlin blushed. “You were deep asleep when I showed up this morning so I trimmed it without waking you. I thought you might have been up too late fretting. That’s why I was late with breakfast.”

Arthur considered this. For years, he’d dreamed and hoped, knowing it was foolish. There had to be some other explanation than the one he wanted to be true. Still, he had to ask.

“Did you use your magic to lift the curse?”

“I didn’t even know there was a curse until just now.”

“But the only person who can cut my hair is my soulmate.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide. There was something in how he was looking at Arthur that made it hard to breathe.

“I think,” Gwen said softly, “that we should give them a minute.”

It took a few nudges from Gwen and Leon, but soon the advisors departed the chamber, leaving only Arthur and Merlin.

They stared at one another. It was so unlike Merlin to be this quiet. Arthur remembered how trapped he’d felt on the day he was supposed to marry Agatha, as if his life would never again be his own. Was that what Merlin was coming to grips with?

“You know,” Merlin began, finally breaking the silence, “I’ve heard that there are two types of soulmates, those that kiss and those that don’t.”

This was news to Arthur, though it made sense that a close bond didn’t necessitate kissing. 

“Well that’s a relief,” Arthur heard himself say, his desire to protect Merlin kicking in on reflex. 

“Right. I guess it is. I can keep you looking neat while you find someone that you actually want to kiss and…”

There was something in Merlin’s tone that suggested he might not want the protection Arthur was offering. 

“I already have. Found someone, that is. To kiss.”

“Ah. Well. I didn’t know. I’m happy for you. So... who is it?”

His palms started to sweat and Arthur wished his hair was still too long so he could hide his eyes. 

“You.”

Merlin swallowed hard.

“Not that I expect you to kiss me.” Arthur’s nerves were getting the better of him. “You should kiss who you want to. If you even want to kiss anyone. I know I wouldn’t want to kiss me. I mean, between the two of us, you’re clearly the more kissable one. I’m too…”

Too caught up in kissing Merlin to worry about his flaws, it turned out. As Arthur had been rambling, Merlin had crossed the room to once again save him, this time from himself.

Arthur would be the first to admit that his technique was lacking. He wasn’t entirely sure of where his nose should go or where to place his hands. Fortunately, Merlin seemed to have a better grasp of these things, gently giving Arthur some helpful suggestions without breaking away. None of his fantasies of kissing Merlin came close to the real thing. Arthur hadn’t even considered that tongues could be used that way. Or that their bodies would fit together so perfectly.

“Who’s to say,” Merlin panted when they stopped to breathe, “that I haven’t been wanting to kiss you as well?”

“Obviously not you. Never once did you mention it.”

“Because you were the crown prince and now the king. You’re supposed to marry a princess.”

“I can’t marry a princess. Gaius left out that part. Under this curse, I can only consent to wed my soulmate.”

“Oh.” 

Never in all their years together had Arthur seen Merlin’s cheeks turn such a deep crimson.

“The old woman didn’t say I _had_ to,” Arthur continued. “But I can’t marry anyone else. Not that I would want to.”

There was no way his face didn’t now match Merlin’s.

“Good,” said Merlin. “That means it’s not just destiny – you have a choice.”

“As do you. Which means we can choose together.”

Arthur possessed land, wealth, and power. He would freely trade it all, he decided, to have Merlin smile at him like that again.

“But,” Merlin said, “right now you do have a job to do. And the sooner you make your proclamation to the people, the sooner we can get back to your quarters. I’m still not convinced that we’re the kind of soulmates who kiss.”

“So you’d rather we didn’t…”

“No, you cabbagehead. I’m saying we need to conduct further research.”

“Ah.”

“Exactly!”

Arthur sighed. A king’s work was never done.

“Hopefully the people won’t riot when they hear I’m lifting the ban.”

“I think the people will be less shocked by your decision and more by how neat your hair is. Although…”

“What?”

“Maybe sometimes you could leave it messy. At least when we’re alone.”

Arthur’s mind suddenly presented him with the new possibilities of what might now happen during hours spent alone with Merlin.

“That could be arranged. If you agree to take the post of court sorcerer.”

“Damn you.”

“So that’s a yes, then?”

“I suppose.”

Arthur smiled and took Merlin by the hand.

“Come on. Let’s go greet the people.”  
  
  



End file.
